Going home
by louella
Summary: Why is Gene giving Alex the cold shoulder? How will Alex get home again? And does she really want to go? FINAL CHAPTER NOW POSTED. Gene/Alex, please R
1. Chapter 1

It was Chris's birthday and to celebrate the team had decamped to Luigi's. Alex rolled her eyes at the predictability of it. She thought she'd overheard Shaz trying to persuade him to go somewhere different for a change but Chris had been reluctant to abandon his regular haunt. Perhaps he was worried that his colleagues wouldn't come unless the venue was familiar. Whatever the reason, here they all were, yet again, eating, drinking into the small hours and generally misbehaving, to the dismay of poor, long-suffering Luigi. The same scene that had played itself out on many occasions in the past.

And yet something was different. At first, she hadn't been able to put her finger on what exactly had changed. And then when she did identify it, she was reluctant to admit that it mattered. But there was no getting away from it; it seemed that she must have done something to piss off the Guv.

Of course, she'd managed to get under his skin pretty frequently in the past, but previously they'd always managed to patch up their rows by the time they'd got onto the second bottle. Tonight, though, the Guv was definitely giving her the cold shoulder. Earlier, she'd seen him at the bar and gone across to say hello but they'd barely exchanged two words before he'd left her to sit in the middle of a booth with some of his CID cronies. When she'd spotted a gap next to him later on, she'd gone over but he excused himself to go to the bathroom before she'd even sat down. The pattern had gone on all night; whenever she'd tried to approach him he'd found some spurious reason to escape. Alex couldn't think of anything she'd done to provoke such a reaction and it was beginning to irritate her. She wasn't sure why she was so bothered by his behaviour but she couldn't deny it was pissing her off. She drained her glass of red - she'd probably had more than she should already but what the hell - and marched across to where Gene stood with his back to her, determined to get to the bottom of whatever it was that was making him treat her like she was invisible.

True to form, when Alex tapped him on the back and walked round to catch his eye, he immediately started looking over her shoulder, into the corner, anywhere really other than at her. Alex couldn't hold back her anger any more. She grabbed hold of his chin, not altogether gently, and forced him to look her in the eyes.

"Gene," she hissed angrily, removing her hand from his face and using it instead to jab at his chest to emphasise her points. "What on earth is going on? Every time I've tried to talk to you this evening you've given me the brush-off."

Bugger, thought Gene, as he desperately tried to avoid her gaze. Rumbled. She was standing so close it was impossible to see round her and he reluctantly looked her in the eye.

Alex continued in an angry whisper. "You've spoken to everyone else here. You've even shared a joke with Scary Simon from Records. And yet I get the distinct impression you wouldn't so much as tell me the time if I asked you." She paused for breath, aware that she was beginning to sound - God forbid - somewhat needy.

Gene glanced down at the floor. This definitely wasn't going to plan. Perhaps he should have been a bit more subtle - engaged her in a little small talk at the beginning of the evening maybe, been a bit less obvious about trying to avoid her when she'd approached him. To be honest, he'd thought she wouldn't bother seeking him out more than once or twice, and he'd gotten a masochistic kick every time she'd come over to him. He'd been tempted to accept her friendly overtures, to succumb to their usual habit of arguing, disagreeing then eventually agreeing to disagree. But he'd held firm to his decision: that his relationship with Alex had to be confined to the squad room, for the good of his sanity. And now she was staring at him, waiting for his response, eyes flashing.

She wore a curious expression and if he didn't know better he'd have sworn she looked hurt. But she'd turned him down often enough for him to know she'd never be his, and perhaps it was time for a bit of honesty between them, even if it would dent his fragile pride. He figured a little awkwardness now would spare him a lot of pain and humiliation further down the road.

"You really want to know why I've been avoiding you Bolly?" he asked gruffly. "Well, I'll tell you. But don't blame me if you don't like what you hear." With that, he took her arm and led her towards an empty, secluded booth in the corner of the wine bar.

They sat close together, Alex waiting for Gene to explain himself. He wiped a hand across his face in an uncharacteristically uncertain gesture. He looked like he didn't know where to begin. Alex wasn't sure exactly what had prompted such insecurity from the Guv – he usually displayed confidence to the point of arrogance – but she was certainly intrigued. It suddenly dawned on her how little she knew about his past and his hopes for the future. With a start, she realized she wanted to know more, to understand what made Gene Gene. At that moment, she didn't care if he was an imaginary construct, a real human being or the man in the moon. She just wanted the chance to really get to know him better, before it was too late, before she had to go home.

"Well, Gene?" she prompted, as the silence between stretched uncomfortably. "What is it you think I might not want to know? Is it something I've done?"

He shook his head slowly and replied, "Nothing you've done, Bolly, no."

Exasperated, she asked, "Something I've not done then?"

He turned to look at her and a half-smile played on his lips. "You could say that, yeah," he said wryly.

"What, then? Come on Gene, I may be a DI but even I need a few clues to go on."

Gene toyed with his glass on the table. How could he explain without giving too much of himself away? "The thing is," he began. "The thing is, Bolly, that I don't want to do this any more."

"Do what any more?"

"This." He gestured around the restaurant, to their colleagues, to her. "This coming out every night, spending hours with you, here, in some feeble approximation of friendship. We're not friends, Alex, and we never will be. So I think it's best if we don't spend as much time together outside work in future. Starting tonight." There. He'd said it. She'd be out of his head and out of his thoughts from now on. So why didn't he feel better?

Alex was stunned. She was grateful Gene was staring down at the table top so he wouldn't be able to read the turmoil in her eyes. She sat still for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts. His words hurt her. Cut to her very core, in fact. She hadn't realised until that moment how much she'd come to rely upon Gene's support and his ever-reassuring presence. Suddenly the idea of remaining at Luigi's for the rest of the evening seemed intolerable.

"Fine," she snapped, rising to her feet. "If that's the way you feel, I won't trouble you with my unappealing presence any longer. See you in the office on Monday."

He wasn't sure what he'd expected her reaction to be but he wasn't prepared for her anger. As so often, her temper provoked his own. He jumped up to face her, bringing them nose to nose.

"Off you go, then," he spat. "Go and play with your posh mates. Find a nice stately home to hang around in. Should've known you wouldn't stick around here for long with the likes of us."

Alex inhaled sharply, her anger rising with his. "How dare you!" she shot back. "You're the only one who cares about my so-called poshness. I don't give a toss about your accent or your background. But you just can't get over it, can you?" She was livid, anger humming through her. "Is that why we can never be friends, Gene?" she continued furiously. "Because I'm too middle-class for you and your flat-cap-and-whippet pretensions?"

"That is not the reason," Gene ground out. They were close now. He could seek the flashes of gold in her eyes, make out the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, feel her angry breath on his face. "This is why we can never be friends," he growled as he closed the gap between them, crushing his lips onto hers.

Alex stood rigid, shocked at his actions, until instinct took over and she opened her lips to allow access to his marauding tongue. Her hand crept to the back of his head, wrapping her fingers through his hair and pulling him ever closer to her. She felt his arms reach around her waist, pulling her body against the length of his. The kiss deepened, tongues caressing, teeth nipping, until Alex thought she was on the verge of drowning in him and the sensations he was drawing from her. It was too much and she pulled away, desperate to regain some control.

Gene stared at her, his breathing as ragged as hers in the aftermath of their embrace. Surely she had been as affected by the kiss as he had been? Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright – she looked like a woman who'd been enjoying his attentions, and he was sure she'd responded in kind. So why was she pushing him away? Uncertainty clouded his eyes. Perhaps he'd been right all along; perhaps she didn't reciprocate his deepening attraction to her; perhaps she was more angry now than aroused. He braced himself for her onslaught.

Alex looked searchingly into Gene's eyes and read the insecurity displayed there. She was far from certain about the wisdom of pursuing a relationship with him but that kiss had left her reeling. She couldn't deny that she wanted him and it seemed, despite his earlier behaviour, that he wanted her too. She raised a hand and tentatively stroked his jaw. Passion flared in Gene's eyes and for the first time he allowed himself to hope that Alex might share his desires.

"What's it to be, then, Bolly?" he asked roughly.

Understanding the question, she dipped her head in a deliberate nod. "My place," she said.

xxxxxxxxxx

TBC

Please review, all comments welcome


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for the encouraging reviews. In this instalment, after a promising start, things begin to head south for our mismatched heroes. Hope you enjoy.**

**Oh BTW – I forgot to clarify – I did check, and it turns out I'm neither the world's greatest public service broadcaster nor a TV production company, so have no rights over these characters. I promise to put them back nicely when I've finished.**

xxxxx

Soft rays of morning light fell onto Alex's pillow and across her face. She slowly opened her eyes and tentatively stretched, feeling several unusual aches and a not unwelcome tenderness in some of the more intimate parts of her anatomy. She smiled lazily and looked across at Gene. If the snoring was anything to go by, he was definitely still in the land of nod.

Gene was lying on his back and she studied his profile. Relaxed, vulnerable in his sleep, he looked younger and gentler than she was used to. Although, she admitted, he had definitely shown signs of youth and gentleness last night. And again in the early hours of this morning. She wondered why she was surprised that Gene had proved to be such a generous and skilful lover.

The smile still playing on her lips, Alex recalled the heights of pleasure that she had scaled in Gene's arms the previous evening. The spark that had been building between them for so long had ignited into fierce flames. Gene had seemed to know instinctively how and where to touch her to elicit the deepest response. She replayed the feel of his hands on her skin and his mouth on her body; she didn't think he'd overlooked a single part of her as he brought her to the peak of her passion time and again.

As she lay next to him, Alex admitted that she had been pleasantly surprised by Gene's apparent enthusiasm for her and the extent of his desire; she knew she'd never been with another man who seemed so in thrall to her body or so keen to meet her needs. She thought wryly that she'd never again believe her female friends when they said that their husbands had lost their energy and enthusiasm in the bedroom as they hit middle age. There had been no sign of flagging interest from Gene once they'd reached her flat. They'd barely made it through the door before he began tearing at her clothes, showering her with kisses and caressing the skin he exposed.

And there was no longer any deluding herself about the extent of her response to him. Her body had fitted his as if made for it. They had fulfilled each other almost effortlessly, with none of the awkwardness that can sometimes cloud first encounters. Physically at least, Gene seemed able to satisfy her unlike any other. She wondered where this new slant on their relationship would take them and admitted to herself that she wouldn't be averse to a repeat performance, despite the aches and tenderness. She didn't think she was being big-headed when she thought Gene would probably feel the same. Hearing her stomach growl, she remembered that she hadn't eaten since lunchtime yesterday. She and Gene had been busy satisfying a different type of hunger last night. She considered waking him and offering him food but he looked so peaceful she didn't have the heart. Instead she dropped a gentle kiss on his nose and slipped quietly out of the bed, heading for the kitchen and tea and toast.

Despite her efforts not to disturb him, Gene stirred as Alex left the bedroom. Gradually awakening, he turned to his side and was disappointed to see that he was alone in the bed. He heard Alex bustling around in the kitchen and smiled to himself, hoping that perhaps she would provide him with something to keep him going until he could get her back into bed.

Lying contentedly under the covers, Gene recalled with pleasure the events of the previous evening. He'd fancied Bolly for so long he'd almost got used to the feeling of longing that seemed to have taken up permenant residence in his gut. He'd fantasised about the two of them together more often than he'd like to admit but the reality had been even better than he'd allowed himself to imagine. He'd lost himself in her. He'd never known anything like it.

Surely he couldn't have imagined the extent of her response to him? He'd been with women in the past who he knew were only going through the motions – women whose happiness in bed he hadn't really cared about – but Bolly's moans of satisfaction, the way she called his name as he took her over the edge, had seemed genuine at the time. He allowed a degree of smugness to creep across his features as he remembered how he had satisfied Alex's desires. Good thing he had too, he thought wryly – he imagined she wouldn't exactly hold back her criticism if she thought he hadn't been up to scratch.

She was unlike any other woman he'd ever had. She knew exactly what she wanted and hadn't been shy about communicating her needs to him. And to his surprise, instead of being threatened by her demands, he'd been inspired by them. The more she'd told him, in words and in gestures, about what she enjoyed, the more confident he'd become about pleasuring her and the more pleasure he'd taken in return. Bloody amazing.

Gene turned onto his side and looked at the dent in her pillow where her head had rested. Giving in to an uncharacteristically sentimental urge, he pulled her pillow close to him and inhaled the scent she'd left. Pure Bolly. "Stop being such a prat," he muttered to himself and pushed the pillow back where it belonged. He rolled onto his back and thought about going to find Alex in the kitchen. In a minute, maybe. He'd just allow himself a few more moments to wake up then go and see if he could talk her into making him a bacon butty.

In the kitchen, Alex was making busy with the kettle, teapot and toaster. She found herself humming along to something she'd heard on the radio the other day, an old Adam and the Ants track. Prince Charming. Well, not exactly, she thought with a grin, but he wasn't bad all the same. She'd put mugs and plates of toast on the tray and was heading back into the bedroom when she saw it; nothing more than a quick impression in the corner of her eye, a blurred reflection in the kitchen window, but it was enough to take her breath away.

It had been months since she'd seen the Clown, not since that awful day when her parents had been killed. But there he was again. She carefully placed the tray on the worktop and turned slowly towards the window. No mistaking the familiar, haunting features. He reached out a hand and in a chillingly disembodied voice stated, "I'm coming."

"No," breathed Alex in terror.

"I'm coming," he repeated, turning his hand to point towards the bedroom. "And this time, I'll take you both."

The image vanished from the window pane, leaving Alex alone again in the kitchen. She gripped the edge of the worktop and tried to regain control of her breathing. What did it mean? Why had he come back now? And what was he trying to say about taking them both? He didn't – surely, couldn't – mean Gene?

The colour drained from her face. It had been so long since she'd seen the Clown, she'd almost begun to forget about the danger that lurked for her in this world. She hadn't forgotten about Molly – she'd never do that – but lately she'd spent less time thinking about how to get home, less time dwelling on her own mortality and whether she'd even made it alive off that barge.

And then there was last night. Surely the timing of this new visit from the Clown couldn't be a coincidence? It must be linked to her new-found relationship with Gene. Was it some sort of punishment? Was the Clown trying to warn her away from Gene? Perhaps the more she established her life in 1981, the less chance she would have of returning to 2008. Maybe the Clown's reappearance was linked to a problem in 2008 – perhaps she'd taken a turn for the worse and was once again seconds away from death. And what about the reference to taking both of them? How could he take Gene if he was nothing more than her imaginary construct?

The questions tumbled over her and she lacked the ability to process them, still less to find answers. The adrenaline rush that had kicked in as she'd seen the Clown had dissipated, leaving her feeling shaky and weak. Which was, of course, the exact moment that Gene chose to seek her out in the kitchen.

"Morning, Bolls," he announced as he strode confidently into the kitchen. He was wearing his boxers and his shirt was hanging open across his shoulders. "Any chance of a brew?"

She raised her eyes to his and he saw at once that something had happened. Bloody hell. He must have got it all wrong. She looked nothing like the warm, responsive woman he'd held in his arms just hours ago. She looked like a woman with regrets. Regrets about him? He couldn't imagine what else would have affected her like this.

Alex looked away and gestured vaguely at the tray that was still sitting where she'd left it on the work surface. "Help yourself."

She turned to go, hoping he'd think she was going to freshen up in the bathroom. She needed to think, couldn't deal with Gene right now. But he wasn't so easily dismissed, and grabbed hold of her arm as she tried to pass.

"What's up, Bolly?" he growled. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear her answer but he knew he didn't want to be faced with the uncertainty of now knowing how she felt.

Alex rubbed a hand across her face. "Nothing," she mumbled. "Just tired. Going to get a shower."

Gene looked at her through narrowed eyes. That was rubbish. She was definitely being evasive. There was something she wasn't telling him, and unfortunately he could guess what it was. Still, he didn't want to leave without finding out what was wrong. He didn't want to believe he'd been so wrong about last night. And there was just a chance that whatever was troubling her had nothing to do with him and their antics the night before. If that was the case, he didn't want to leave her here alone and unhappy. He wanted to help her.

"Wait, Alex," he said forcefully. "Tell me what's wrong. Perhaps I can help."

For a moment she was tempted. She considered unburdening herself to Gene, telling him about her fears and the reason she was so determined to get back to her daughter. But he already thought she was crazy and this certainly wouldn't help. She was also conscious that she didn't want to put him in danger by dragging him into her problems. God, she needed time to think.

"No, Gene," she replied flatly. "Look, have a cup of tea. I'm going to have a shower. You can let yourself out while I'm in the bathroom." She walked to the bathroom on autopilot and started the shower, questions running through her mind until she thought she must be going as crazy as Gene already thought she was.

Gene was left stranded in the kitchen, staring at the breakfast tray. This was not how he'd pictured her response this morning. He still wanted her desperately – despite the worried expression on her face she'd still looked gorgeous and he definitely hadn't yet scratched the itch that was his desire for Alex Drake. But she couldn't have been clearer about her meaning: sling your hook, Hunt. He gulped down the lukewarm tea and headed to the bedroom to collect his clothes.

Gene's mind was a jumble of contradictory thoughts. Surely he couldn't have been as off base as this? He knew she wanted him. So what was making her act so strangely this morning? Even compared to her usual mad behaviour, this was unusual. He finished dressing and paused outside the bathroom door. He could hear her shower running and pushed away images of her naked body standing under the pouring water. He considered going in and forcing her to admit that she wanted him, his eyes darkening as he imagined the uses that the shower cubicle could be put to. But he really couldn't face the risk of her rejecting him. Shaking his head, he continued along the corridor and let himself out of the flat.

In the shower, Alex heard the sound of the door closing. She slumped against the wall, water pounding her tired body, unsure now whether she'd made the right choice in asking Gene to leave. She suddenly felt bereft and lonely and very, very scared. Closing her eyes, her thoughts returned again to the Clown and the threats he'd made. She stiffened her spine and resolved to fight. She couldn't put Gene in danger, though. She'd have to do it alone.

xxxxx

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

It was Chris's birthday and to celebrate the team had decamped to Luigi's

**Thank you as ever for your words of encouragement. Hope this chapter is not too long and rambling. I do have a plan for where this is going, honest.**

xxxxx

Alex sat at her desk, tapping her pen against a blank sheet of paper and waiting for the hands on the clock to creep round to 5.00 pm. The streets of south London seemed unusually law-abiding and the atmosphere in the CID office was torpid. Alex checked the clock again. 4.55. Close enough. It was a Friday, after all. She put down her pen, picked up her bag and pushed back her chair. She was just slipping her jacket over her shoulders when she heard the slam of Gene Hunt's office door behind her. She sighed. So much for her discrete early departure.

"Where do you think you're off to, then, Bolly? Got some hot lead to follow up?" he asked sceptically. "I hope you weren't planning to knock off early?" Gene stared at her through narrowed eyes, and any prospect she of an early night and some peace and quiet seemed a long way distant.

Alex's shoulders slumped. It had been two weeks since she and Gene had enjoyed their brief moment of intimacy at her flat and relations between them since had been awkward, to say the least. She had done her best to avoid being alone with him in the last fortnight; she'd even curtailed her evenings in Luigi's to ensure she didn't lose her sense of judgement in the bottom of one-too-many glasses of Italian plonk.

"I'm heading home, Gene," she said deliberately. "I'm not feeling one-hundred percent." She hoped he'd get the hint and leave her alone. No such luck.

"What you need," sniffed Gene, "is the Gene Hunt patented cure for aches and illnesses. Luigi's tuna carbonara and a stiff Bloody Mary."

"Mmm," murmured Alex. "Cream, tuna, tomato juice and vodka. A delightful combination and range of flavours. How could I refuse?"

Gene knew she was being sarcastic but it suited his purposes to play it straight. "Right," he said confidently. "Get your coat on, it now actually is 5.00 pm so we're legitimately off duty." He strode towards the doors without looking back, hoping desperately that she was in fact following close behind. Which, after huffing quietly, rolling her eyes and sticking her tongue out, she was.

They began the short walk to Luigi's and Alex asked, "So, where are the others?"

"What others?" Gene replied innocently.

"Oh, you know, that team of people we spend almost every waking hour with, either sober in the office or pissed at the bar."

"Mmm, dunno," replied Gene, not entirely truthfully. In fact, hew knew exactly what everyone was up to this evening and for once none of them would be at Luigi's. At the sight of Alex's raised eyebrows, he felt obliged to fill her in, at least in part.

"No, hang on, let's see," he continued. "Chris and Shaz have gone to the pictures together, some new film, American I think. Ray's off seeing that air hostess we had in for questioning last week after the theft at the airport. Allan's gone up to Southend for his mother's sixtieth birthday party. And Kev and Neil have got some surveillance detail over at Woolwich docks."

"Right. So it's just you and me then."

"Your lucky night, Bolly."

The rest of the walk passed in silence. Alex was contemplating the wisdom of spending an evening in an intimate restaurant with her boss and one-night-stand, Gene Hunt. Gene was wondering whether his ploy of sending Kev and Neil on a totally unnecessary surveillance op so he would finally be able to get Alex on her own was hopelessly transparent.

As they entered the restaurant, Gene automatically headed towards the bar and Alex to their usual quiet table in the corner. She sat down and remembered yet again how much she had enjoyed that stolen evening two weeks ago. As she eyed Gene at the bar – all broad shoulders, long legs, dishevelled hair and pouting mouth – she questioned again whether she had been right to put such an absolute and premature stop to their relationship. Certainly, if she had thought that one night with him would be enough to get him out of her system, she had been horribly mistaken. If anything, now she knew how good they could be together, she wanted him more. She wondered whether Gene felt the same or whether he'd been satisfied by their earlier encounter. One good thing had come from her decision, though; she hadn't seen the Clown again since that awful morning in her kitchen.

At the bar, Gene handed over payment for a bottle of red, a glass of bitter and a packet of cheese and onion. He looked across at Alex and wondered again how he could get past the barriers she seemed determined to erect around herself. As she sat alone at the table in the nearly empty bar, she looked indescribably fragile and vulnerable. Which was, of course, complete bollocks, as he'd never met a stronger, feistier, more independent woman. Nor, he admitted to himself, a more attractive, beautiful, intriguing one. He puffed out a breath. He knew he was in danger here – knew he risked letting things get out of control – but he desperately wanted a repeat of their earlier encounter, and no matter how much she tried to deny it, he sensed that she did too. He picked up the drinks and crisps and joined her at the table.

"Get this down you," commanded Gene, handing of a glass of red wine. "I spared you Luigi's lethal Bloody Mary but the tuna carbonara is on its way."

"Terrific. I wonder if it's dolphin friendly?"

"Eh?" Would he ever understand half of what she wittered on about?

"Nothing. Never mind."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the tension between them easing for the first time in two weeks. She toyed with her wine glass, he opened the bag of crisps. Leaning back in his chair, he decided to try and extend this apparent pause in hostilities by sticking to neutral, work-related topics. It wouldn't come easily to him but he'd do his best. He struck up a conversation about her latest case and she seemed happy enough to chat about her theories. He even managed not to interrupt to take the piss out of her left-field approach. Instead they just let the conversation flow, like it had in the weeks before their relationship had changed so fundamentally.

Alex was surprised to find she was enjoying his company. Out of the office and away from the pressure of being "The Guv" in front of his team, Gene could be engaging, funny, charming even. She was relieved to find that she hadn't completely wrecked their chances of maintaining a civilised working relationship. She was honest enough to admit to herself, though, that when they were off the clock, when they were alone in her flat, she had thoroughly enjoyed encouraging Gene's more uncivilised side.

For his part, Gene was finding it unexpectedly easy to be pleasant to Alex. He realised that he was so used to acting the part of the Manc Lion that he'd almost forgotten how to behave off duty. There was something about Bolly that brought out his gentler side.

Alex stifled a yawn and checked the digits on her watch. She was dismayed to realise it was approaching 11.00 pm. They'd been there for hours and she'd hardly noticed the time passing.

"Past your bedtime, Bolls?"

"Heading that way," she agreed. "I'm going upstairs."

"I'll get my stuff."

"No, it's all right, you don't have to."

He sighed. "I know I don't have to, but you're right, it's getting late and I'm not really that keen on sitting around here with only Luigi for company. I'll see you upstairs and then make a move. Home, I mean. I'll make a move home."

She smiled. What harm could it do? No point in starting an argument now, not when they'd had such a pleasant evening. They walked quietly up the stairs to her flat, and she wasn't surprised when Gene followed her in.

"Coffee, Gene? You probably need it after that dodgy grappa you insisted on trying." She knew he wasn't sober, and she felt a little woozy herself, but pleasantly. She headed into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil, pouring spoons of ground coffee into the cafetiere.

She didn't hear him come into the kitchen behind her. He'd taken off his boots and stood quietly, watching her reach into the cabinet for mugs and sugar. He came closer, close enough to smell her hair and feel her warmth. His body reacted automatically to her nearness.

"Bolly," he growled into her ear, making her jump in surprise. The action brought her into contact with his body and she turned towards him, her hands caught between their bodies, her mouth open as she inhaled sharply at the unexpected contact. They stood locked in that position for what felt like an eternity, neither wanting to break the spell or move away. Eventually Gene could stand it no longer. He had wanted her since the day he met her, and every day, except one, he'd had to walk away alone. He wasn't going to pass up this opportunity to rekindle their relationship.

He angled his head slowly down towards hers. He didn't want to frighten her but he didn't want to give her the opportunity to turn away either. Then he saw the flame spark in her hazel eyes and knew, with relief, that there would be no running away this evening. He closed the gap between them and kissed her, at first tenderly but then with growing intensity as she returned his attentions with interest.

Alex felt Gene's hands move down her body, lifting her onto the kitchen work surface. She wound her legs around him, needing the feel of his body next to hers, and knew she was sunk. She'd tried to deny her feelings for Gene, tried to be sensible about getting too closely entangled with him, but when he kissed her and touched her she lost all sense of reason. She wanted him desperately and wasn't sure she had the strength to say no.

"Bolly…" he whispered between kisses. "Bolly, I need to know. Are you sure? About this?" Say yes. Please say yes. But if you're going to say no, do it now and do it quickly.

Alex looked him deep in the eye. "Yes, Gene," she replied. "I'm sure."

xxxxx

For the second time, Alex woke up in Gene's arms. A girl could get used to this, she thought, as she snuggled closer to his bare chest.

Once again, he had proved to her how much she wanted him. She could barely get enough; she wasn't inexperienced but had actually been shocked by how responsive she was to his touch. Their previous encounter two weeks before had primed them on each other's sensual preferences and last night they had taken their passion to even greater heights.

Sensing Alex's awakening, Gene stirred to life himself. He was relieved to find her still alongside him in her bed, her perfect body curled intimately around his. He tightened his grip on her shoulders and pulled her closer to him; after last time he wasn't going to risk her disappearing into the kitchen and changing her mind on him again. He turned his head and placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Morning, Bolls," he smiled, pleased to see that she smiled back in return. Perhaps this time would be different; he hoped so.

She smiled lazily across at him. He looked – well, let's be honest – pretty rough. They'd hardly managed any sleep, and with his stubble and the dark smudges under his eyes, he wasn't exactly glowing with youth and vigour. His hair was tousled and his eyes sleepy. He couldn't have looked sexier. She pressed kisses against his shoulder, his neck, his chest, hoping that her actions conveyed her pleasure at finding him there with her. He certainly seemed to welcome her kisses and it wasn't long before she found herself being kissed back with an intensity that both thrilled and surprised her. He knew instinctively how to touch her and focused intently on maximising her pleasure. Her body responded under his skilful hands and, as always, he held back his own release until he was sure she'd been satisfied. Only then did he collapse alongside her in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets.

Lying replete in Gene's arms, Alex knew she would soon have to face the day. She was reluctant to leave the sanctuary of the bed but realised that sooner or later she'd have to make a move, if only to stop them starving to death. Perhaps it would be safer if Gene came with her to the kitchen? She gave him a poke in his side. "Come on, you. I'm starving. Time to put your culinary skills to the test. Coffee, toast and eggs, please."

"What?" he grumbled. He was exhausted. Did she really expect him to make her breakfast? A quick glance at her determined features told him that yes, she did. Oh well, it was probably a fair trade, bearing in mind what she'd done for him over the last 12 hours or so. He pushed himself off the bed and pulled on his shorts and vest while she flung a bathrobe over her shoulders. They padded into the kitchen together, Gene taking the opportunity to show Alex that he had managed to pick up a few domestic skills in the time he'd been living alone.

They sat on her sofa, sharing their small meal in a comfortable silence. There was none of the awkwardness that had marred their first morning together. Though neither Alex nor Gene would admit it, they were both surprised by how easily they relaxed into each other's company. They spent the morning pottering around Alex's flat, reading yesterday's paper, chatting about nothing, scavenging for more food around lunchtime before vanishing back into the bedroom in the afternoon.

xxxxx

Lying once again on Alex's bed, Alex dozing softly beside him, Gene checked his watch and realised reluctantly that it was probably time to leave. His own place was a mess and he needed to get back there and sort out some laundry, as well as get on top of the ever increasing mountain of paperwork. He also didn't want to outstay his welcome at Alex's and was nervous about appearing too keen or crowding her. He eased himself gently from the bed and stepped into the shower, hoping she'd be awake by the time he got back.

Alex woke as she heard the shower begin to run. She rolled onto her side and wondered what Gene's plans were for the rest of the weekend. She'd be happy to spend it cocooned in her flat with him but she knew he may have other things planned and she didn't want to put any pressure on him to stay if he didn't want to. She sighed. It had been a long time since she'd had to negotiate the tricky waters of a new relationship and she was definitely out of practice. It didn't help that the relationship in question was with Gene Hunt, a prickly, arrogant, emotionally stunted dinosaur who also happened to be her boss. As she heard him moving about in the bathroom, she smiled to herself. He may be all those things but he could also be tender, generous, loyal and warm, and the thought of him standing under her shower was doing funny things to her insides.

She pushed herself up to sitting and was reaching for her robe when she spotted the glint on the window pane. The Clown seemed to be waiting for her to notice him. She had no idea how long he had been there. Her heart pounded and she felt the heat drain from her body. In his sinister, disembodied voice, he called our to her.

"I warned you. You did not listen. And now you must pay."

As his image disappeared from view, Alex collapsed back onto the bed, hugging Gene's pillowcase to her for comfort. She let out a single, muffled sob. How could she have been so complacent? How could she have imagined that he would leave her alone? Her heart rate returned to normal but her thoughts remained confused. What did the Clown want with her? Would he really attack Gene? What should she do to keep herself and Gene safe?

She was on the verge of deciding, yet again, that she should end her fling with Gene when he walked back into the bedroom. He had a towel slung low around his hips and with another was rubbing at his wet hair. He walked across to her and was leaning down to giver her a gentle kiss when he realised with dismay that she was withdrawing from him again.

Christ, not again, he thought to himself. She was fine when we were together; the moment I leave her alone she begins to get doubts. I can't stay by her side every bloody minute. What can I do to keep her with me?

He sat carefully beside her on the bed and picked up her hand. "What's up, Bolly? I promise I didn't use all your hot water."

She gave a weak smile in return. She knew she wasn't being fair on him but how could she possibly explain what was wrong? Wouldn't he be better off out of it? She was about to launch into the tried-and-tested "it's not you, it's me" routine when she felt Gene lift her hand and press a gentle kiss across her knuckles. He turned her hand over and nuzzled into her palm, then gave a tiny kiss to the pad of each fingertip in turn. He looked into her eyes with such an expression of concern and fear that her heart melted. She couldn't ask him to leave her, not when she felt so safe and secure and happy when he was around. Maybe it was wrong but for now she was too weak to face this on her own.

"Nothing's wrong, Gene," she said softly. Perhaps she could borrow some of his strength and use it in her battle with the Clown. In the meantime, she should just enjoy what she had with Gene and stop analysing it so much. Go with the flow, as Molly would tell her. She leaned into him and laced her fingers through his. "Please stay," she whispered.

She confused him. He was only a bloke, for God's sake, how was he supposed to understand what a woman wanted from him. She kept drawing him closer and then pushing him away. He was in danger of falling and her about-turns made him anxious, uncertain about their future. He hated his lack of control over their relationship. But as he looked into her worried eyes, saw the slight tremble of her lip, he knew that right now she needed him and he couldn't turn her away.

He pulled her down with him onto the mattress and drew her close into his arms. Nothing could harm her now. He held her until she relaxed into sleep, her head against his chest. "I'm not going anywhere, Bolly," he said, too quietly to wake her. She slept dreamlessly, finally feeling secure.

xxxxx

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Alex lay back on her shiny grey and black sofa, waiting for Gene to bring up the couple of bottles of red he was buying from Luigi downstairs. She'd taken a quick shower and changed into a new red shirt dress, adding a narrow black belt, sheer black stockings and black patent stilettos. She hoped Gene would appreciate the effort she'd made. That's assuming he left her clothes on long enough to notice. Judging by their history to date, there was a good chance that her new outfit would be on the floor at the foot of the bed before they'd exchanged more than a few sentences.

They'd been seeing each other for about three weeks now, and had fallen into an easy routine of sorts. They'd leave the office separately, meet up in Luigi's along with the rest of the team, then she'd head up to the flat, leave the door on the latch, and Gene would join her soon after. He'd take her in his arms, kick the door closed behind him and lead her straight to the bedroom, never letting her forget how good they were together.

Alex smiled to herself. There was no denying their physical compatibility. Gene seemed determined to prove to her that she needed him, in bed if nowhere else, and he was going a long way towards succeeding. The more they were together, the more of him she wanted.

At work, their new relationship wasn't exactly a secret but they both made an effort to be discreet. If anything, Gene was harder on her at work now than before, over-compensating for the fact that she was witness to his vulnerabilities when they were alone. She felt privileged that the mighty Gene Hunt had begun to open himself up to her. She was sure that she saw sides of him that no one else had ever seen; when they lay snuggled together in her bed, lights off and sleep around the corner, they spoke softly of their pasts, their fears, their hopes for the future, the state of policing, the state of the world, anything really. For Alex, only two subjects were off limits: their relationship and her daughter. He never pushed her and they never ran out of other topics for discussion. In those quiet moments before sleep claimed them, she believed she was growing closer to him than she'd managed even after years together with her husband.

There was, Alex noted with a small frown, only one cloud on the horizon. Unfortunately, it was a pretty large cloud with the potential to bring destruction in its wake. She'd been having nearly daily visits from her nemesis, the Clown, and his threats were getting clearer. In the beginning, she'd tried to block him out of her thoughts, had managed to a degree to compartmentalise her happiness at being with Gene from her fear of the Clown. But in the last few days, she'd come to realise that the Clown would continue to taunt her as long as she continued her relationship with Gene. He'd told her yesterday, his image barely visible in the steamed up mirror in the bathroom as she'd emerged from the shower, that he was running out of patience and there would be a price to pay for her disobedience.

Lying on her sofa, Alex shook her head briskly. He was a figment of her imagination, more so even than Gene and the rest of the constructs. She chose not to dwell on the fact that Gene was seeming more and more real to her every day. Instead, she told herself once again that the Clown could not hurt her, certainly couldn't hurt Gene, and that she should continue to grab whatever happiness she could in this world until she could figure out how to get back to 2008 and her daughter.

Downstairs, Gene was settling up with Luigi for the wine and a couple of foil-wrapped pasta dishes for reheating later.

"And how is Signorina Drake?" asked Luigi, a knowing smile on his lips.

"She is very well, thank you," Gene replied gruffly. He knew the Italian had his best interests at heart but he was still reluctant to discuss his new relationship with Alex. Luigi was not so easily deterred, however.

"It is so lovely to see you and she together. After so long. I have sensed you both dancing around each other. I am pleased you have finally seen what has been obvious to everyone else."

"Yes, well, early days, Luigi, early days." Gene shuffled uncomfortably, wondering where this conversation was going.

"Oh, but the early days are supposed to be the best, Signor Hunt," Luigi said carefully. He sensed that things were not as they should be and he wondered whether there was anything he could do to help.

"It's going fine, Luigi," Gene replied firmly and was about to take his leave when he caught the concerned, enquiring look from the restaurateur. He sighed. "It is going fine, I suppose, but I can't help but think there's something she's not telling me."

Luigi had heard enough sad tales across his bar over the years to know when to speak and when to keep quiet. This was one occasion to keep quiet.

"It's just…" Gene sighed. "It's just, well, she's fine when we're together." He allowed himself a small smile. Really, when they were together, she was more than fine. She was magnificent. They were amazing together, better than he'd ever imagined, and he'd imagined a lot. "But… it's like whenever she's on her own, she gets doubts." There was nothing he could put his finger on, no reason he could think of why she would change her mind in the brief periods when they were apart. But he couldn't deny it, there were definitely times when he came upon her and noticed she seemed unsure. He was doing everything he could to persuade her that they were good together. He had told her more about himself than he'd told any other woman, up to an including his ex wife. And he couldn't keep his hands off her, hoped to show her what she meant to him by his unending desire. But still he wondered.

Luigi nodded sympathetically. "Women, they can be difficult creatures. Hard sometimes to understand. But I think, too, that women sometimes have trouble understanding us, no? After all, do we always tell them what we are thinking?"

Gene drummed his fingers on the bar. "I shouldn't have to tell her," he said stubbornly. "She's supposed to be a psychologist. She should just know."

"Ah, well, in that case you are probably right. She will read your mind and all will be as you wish."

A low growl escaped Gene's lips as he considered what Luigi was trying to tell him. He'd never been good with words, even worse with emotions, but he knew well enough that he might have to take a chance if he was to find out what Alex was really thinking. "Night, Luigi," he muttered as he headed towards the stairs and Alex's flat. Perhaps it was time to let her know where he stood, and hope that she would do the same for him in return.

xxxxx

Alex smiled as she heard Gene come into her flat and close the door safely behind him. He had come to her place many times in the last few weeks but she still got a thrill every time she heard him approach. He walked into her sitting room, put the bottles and food cartons onto the coffee table and sat on the sofa next to her, lifting her legs across his lap and settling her comfortably close to him. She looked him up and down, taking in his long legs, his dark shirt, open at the neck, and the look in his eyes as he stared at her.

Gene swallowed hard. Was that a new dress? And stockings too – the only thing he preferred to her usual skin-tight jeans. "You look gorgeous. Come here." He pulled her closer, arms reaching round her back, mouth seeking hers. She responded with passion, as always, loving the taste of him, the feel of his hands on her body, longing for more. She made to stand, to take him into the bedroom with her, keen to indulge their mutual desires, but he held her back.

"Hang on a minute, Bolls." Gene paused, unsure exactly how to phrase what he wanted to say. "Look. Alex. Are you… erm… Are you happy about what's happening here? I mean, with us. What's happening with us. You know. Together." He paused. God, he sounded like an idiot. He knowing what he wanted to ask but didn't know whether Alex had understood him or whether he'd really want to hear her answer.

Alex's eyebrows drew together in confusion. Wasn't it obvious that she was happy with him? Was this some kind of trick question? Was he trying to tell her that he wanted to end things?

"Yes, Gene," she replied carefully. "I like what we do together. Very much. Why? Don't you?"

Gene let out a short laugh at that one. "Yes, Bolly, I like what we do together too." He was pleased to see her smile in relief. Perhaps this wouldn't be so difficult after all. It gave him the courage to continue. "It's just that sometimes, you know, you seem uncertain. About being with me."

"Uncertain?"

She wasn't giving anything away, he thought in frustration. "Yes, uncertain. Like, you have doubts. On the verge of changing your mind. And then we get together again and you're back with me." He saw her look away, wondered what she was thinking. "It's hard for me, you know. This – us – it's all new. I don't know what I'm doing. What we're doing. You confuse me. I don't know what you want. You're supposed to be the one who's good with words. Why can't you tell me what you want?"

Alex raised her eyes back to Gene's. She knew this would have been difficult for him, knew he would hate asking for anything from her. But what could she say?

"Gene. This is hard for me too. In ways you can't possibly imagine."

"Well why don't you bloody well try telling me then," he ground out, beginning to lose what little patience he had.

Alex put her hands into his. "OK. We can talk about this. But it might sound a little – strange. So bear with me, please?" The corners of Gene's mouth turned down in his trademark scowl, but he nodded and Alex took this as encouragement to begin.

"I'm scared, Gene. About lots of things. I'm scared about whether I'll ever see my daughter again. I know you want to know what's happened to her and I'm very grateful that you've never pushed me to explain. I'm still not ready to talk about it, but you've got to understand that seeing Molly again is the most important thing in my life and I don't want to do anything to jeopardise that." Alex saw Gene nodding, a quizzical expression on his face.

"What else scares you?" he asked quietly.

"You," Alex whispered. "Us."

"I scare you? I would never do anything to hurt you. Men who hurt women are the lowest form of scum." Gene was so indignant, Alex had to smile.

"Not that sort of scared, Gene," Alex sought to clarify. She paused, choosing her next words with care. "I'm scared about how you make me feel. I'm scared that my relationship with you will put us in danger, cause us harm. Perhaps you. More likely me. It may even make it impossible for me to get back to Molly."

Gene was confused. Again. She was impossible. "How can our relationship affect your ability to see Molly again?"

"I can't explain. You'll just have to take my word for it." She turned pleading eyes to his, hoping he would understand. He took in a deep breath. He wanted to know more but understood that for now he'd have to let it slide. He nodded for her to continue.

"And you and me," she said. "You're right. I have had doubts. I've thought about ending things between us a few times but…" She wasn't sure how to go on, but the look of anxiety clouding Gene's features reminded her that she needed to try and explain. "Well, I couldn't. End things, I mean. Because I – well – I find – to my surprise I might add – that I need you. Too much, really. So in spite of my better judgement, here we still are."

Gene puffed out his cheeks. She wanted him so much she was overriding her instincts to stay with him. But she was reluctant and continued to have doubts. He wasn't sure whether he should be delighted or offended at the news. "Indeed. Here we still are. And in case you hadn't noticed, there are two people involved in this. You could have told me. Instead of leaving me hanging, not knowing what was going on." He stopped. He didn't want to get into a row, he wanted to be able to find a way through this.

Alex looked down at their hands, still joined together in her lap. She lifted one hand free and traced the outline of his jaw. "I'm sorry if you've been worried," she said softly. "To be honest, I didn't realise you'd noticed my doubts."

"I notice much more than you think, Bolly."

"I guess that's true," she smiled. "But I'm still scared, Gene."

"Don't be scared. Nothing bad's going to happen on my watch." He pulled her nearer to him, hoping to impart some of his strength to her. He didn't fully understand her worries, couldn't work out how their relationship could affect her reunion with Molly, how it might put them in danger. But for now he was happy to take comfort from the fact that she seemed willing to put aside her own doubts because of her need to be with him. He pressed a kiss against her temple. She felt soft and warm in his arms. His lips trailed down to take hers, pulling her as close as he could get. He knew he had to show her how much she needed him and this was a good way to begin.

xxxxx

TBC

**Thanks for sticking with it. One or two more chapters to go. As always, all comments welcome. Lou**


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm breathing quietly. Why am I breathing so quietly? I can't see far enough ahead. Everything is black and white and shades of grey. There are sounds, unrecognisable, maybe human, coming from left and right. I'm in a corridor, bright lights in the ceiling, occasional splashes of red. There's a junction ahead. Which way should I go? I keep walking, flinching at the noises, shielding my eyes from the lights. I reach the junction. Left or right? I turn my head slowly, slowly, towards the right. It's all clear. I start to walk, my footsteps echoing around the empty walls. I hear a scream behind me. Startled, I turn to look. It's him, his white face twisted in a grotesque imitation of a smile, and he's holding a gun. I cry out. He raises the gun and I see him pull the trigger…_

"No!" Alex screamed, sweat beading on her brow, eyes wide in terror, heart racing. "No, please, no, leave me." She was babbling and incoherent, pleading with the Clown to set her free, terrified as she saw the bullet hurtling towards her. It took her a moment to realise that she was sitting up safe in her own bed, Gene beside her and the Clown nowhere to be seen. She put a hand to her chest, as if to steady her heart beat, and looked across towards Gene. She hoped he'd still be sleeping so she wouldn't have to explain her nightmare. She was disappointed.

"Wassup, Bolls?" Gene asked groggily, squinting up at her. He immediately noticed her distress and reached over to turn on his bedside lamp. She did not respond, still battling to get her breathing under control and banish the visions she'd had in her sleep. "Bolly? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, sounding unconvincing even to her own ears.

"Come here," said Gene softly, reaching for her and pulling her into his comforting embrace. "Doesn't look like nothing."

Alex tried to relax into Gene's arms, her head against his chest, but she was finding it difficult. "I'm fine, Gene, honestly," she lied.

Gene pressed a kiss against her temple. He was a DCI, for God's sake, but even a plonk could detect that Alex wasn't being wholly truthful with him. He sighed. He wanted to make everything all right for her. He wanted to crush anything and anyone who had caused her harm in the past or who might cause her harm in the future. He was Gene Hunt, in control of his own fate and the fate of those he cared about. And her cared about Alex. He felt anger welling up inside him at her refusal to share her fears, but it drained away after a quick look at her anxious face. "Talk to me, Alex," he pleaded quietly.

Gene felt Alex snuffle a small laugh against his chest. "You're asking me to talk to you? There's ironic. It's usually the other way around. Most days you can't wait to tall me to shut up," she finished affectionately.

"Don't think I haven't noticed you haven't answered my question."

Alex stilled. "I'm sorry, Gene. I can't. Please understand. I will tell you when I can."

Lying on his back, Gene pondered her words. For all his strength in the interrogation room, he knew he'd never be able to force Alex to tell him anything she didn't want him to know. He sensed that whatever was wrong had to be pretty serious and he was worried for her but he knew he'd have to wait before she let him in on her fears.

"OK," he said softly. "You don't want to tell me, don't tell me. But I'm worried about you." His arms tightened involuntarily around her. "Whatever it is that's bothering you – I'd never be able to live with myself if something happened to you while I wasn't around." He took a deep breath. "Look, I'm not really an expert at this, but things have been going pretty well between us, don't you think? I mean, we've been together almost every night for months. I'm –" he paused, trying to find the right word – "happy – here. I want to be with you. And I think you want that too. Let me look after you, Alex. Properly." He swallowed. "Let's find a place together."

Shit, he thought, as her silence lengthened. Play it cool, don't scare her off. "Just think about it, OK?" he added finally.

Alex was glad Gene couldn't see her face from her position in his arms. She would hate for him to see the indecision she knew was written all across it. She nodded against his chest, pressed a kiss against it. "OK," she replied. "Let's talk about it tomorrow. Right now I just want to go to sleep." She snuggled against him, seeking his strength and warmth, and he held her close until her breathing felt even and he sensed she was sleeping.

xxxxx

When Alex woke again, she was alone. It was Monday, Gene had headed into the office already, but she wasn't due in until the afternoon and he'd obviously decided to leave quietly so she could sleep in.

She rolled onto her stomach, thinking about Gene's proposition during the night. She couldn't help smiling; she was thrilled that he was thinking about their future and, although she'd never admit it, she loved the idea of having the all-powerful Manc Lion look after her. Their relationship had matured in ways she'd never expected. He'd shown her courtesy and thoughtfulness when they were alone together, without compromising on the passion and conflict that existed naturally between them at work. And he was right about the amount of time they'd spent together; she couldn't remember the last time she'd slept alone, no longer wanted to sleep alone. The sex was off the scale – Gene constantly surprised and pleased her with his inventiveness and desire for her – but even on those nights they were too tired, or too drunk, to make love, they'd taken comfort from each other, holding each other till they feel asleep.

But the smile faded from her face as she considered the implications of moving into a new place with Gene. She still hadn't told him about the Clown and the fact that he was appearing to her almost every day, as well as now infiltrating her dreams. How could she commit further to Gene without telling him the truth about herself? But if she did, what on earth would he say? He'd probably go back to thinking she was nuttier than a jar of peanut butter.

It wasn't like it would be easy to explain. "Oh, by the way, I'm really a DI in 2008, that's where my daughter is and why I can't just jump on a train to get back to her. I was shot and I may even be dead. And the reason why I was so bothered about the Prices' death is because they were actually my parents. So I just found out my father killed my mother and wanted to kill me too. And to top it all off, I'm being haunted by a spooky vision of my father dressed as a Clown who keeps threatening to finish the job, killing me and also you." Hmmm.

But the worst of it all was that her memory of Molly was fading and the reality of 1981, of her relationship with Gene, was becoming stronger every day. She was torn with guilt about taking her eye off her search for a way to get back to her daughter. What sort of a mother was she, that she would consider prioritising a relationship with a man over the daughter who needed her? After all, she knew from first-hand experience how difficult it was to go through adolescence and adulthood without the love and support of a parent to guide her. And as much as she cared for Gene – loved him, in fact, although she'd never told him – it couldn't compare to a mother's love for her child. She closed her eyes and concentrated hard, conjuring up an image of her daughter, standing on a bridge near the Thames, waving her goodbye.

Her musings were cut short by the ring of the telephone.

"Hello?"

"Get yourself over to the station, Bolls. We've got a problem – man taken his ex-wife and kiddies hostage – and I need you." Alex started to say that she'd be right there but she could have saved her breath; the phone line had already gone dead.

Smiling to herself at Gene's ability to separate work – where she was definitely his subordinate, expected to obey his commands as if they came from God – and home, where he was only too willing to comply with her demands of him. Pushing aside thoughts of the future of their relationship, and the pain of drifting further and further from Molly, she padded to the shower and prepared for another busy day at the office.

xxxxx

The CID team were ranged around the semi where the hostage situation had just drawn to a close. There was a small ripple of applause from the on-lookers as the hostage taker was led away in cuffs by Ray and Chris. Shaz joined other uniformed officers as they brought the woman and her children out of the house, unharmed. Gene and Alex holstered their weapons, smiling at the successful resolution of the hostage negotiations. Gene looked across at Alex. She'd surpassed herself this time, managing to talk the lunatic ex-husband out of the house without a shot being fired. He didn't know how she always managed to find the right words but she'd been inspired when talking to the hostage taker. Gene was willing to admit that her method, involving conversation and negotiation, had been better on this occasion than his approach, involving storming the house with weapons drawn, would have been. He'd rather pull out his own fingernails than admit it, but inside he was bursting with pride at her expertise.

He put his hand at her waist to guide her towards the Quattro. There would be a tonne of paperwork to process back at the station but he thought they deserved a celebratory drink on the way. They'd catch up with the others later.

As they wondered towards the car, Gene tightened his hold on Alex's waist and leant to whisper into her ear. "Good job, there, Bolly. You could even make me start hoping for 'non-fatality outcomes'."

Alex smiled. "I'll bring you round to the rewards of civilised conversation over brute thuggery in the end, Gene."

"Maybe, eventually. Just don't tell anyone, OK?"

Alex slowed to a stop and pulled him round to face her, a twinkle in her eye. "Your secret's safe with me. Although if you wanted to walk into the office and tell everyone how brilliant a negotiator I am, I won't stop you!" She drew him into a gentle embrace, closing her eyes as she brushed her lips against his ear.

It wasn't until she pulled away from him that she saw it. The Clown had appeared over Gene's shoulder, staring intently at her, drawing all the heat and warmth from her body. The Clown was unblinking. Alex took in a deep, shaky breath; she didn't notice Gene's questioning stare.

The Clown raised his hand and Alex saw that he held a gun. It was pointed at her and his finger was poised on the trigger.

"I warned you," the Clown said coldly. "I warned you time and again. No more warnings. It's pay time now."

"No," whispered Alex frantically. "Gene, help me. Make him go away."

Gene looked around, trying to see what was scaring Alex. There was nothing there.

Alex was rooted to the spot, clinging onto Gene's arm as though she'd never let it go. As she stared at the Clown, she was horrified to see his face morphing, as it had done once before. But this time, instead of revealing the image of her father, the Clown changed into another horribly familiar figure: Arthur Layton.

"No!" she breathed, nearly collapsing into Gene's arms. She had to pull herself together. Gene turned around again and this time he saw Layton pointing the gun in Alex's direction. He went to draw his own gun but Alex had beaten him to it. He looked on in horror as Alex and Layton faced each other, guns aimed squarely at each other, neither looking remotely like backing down.

Layton spoke first. "Nice to see you again, Alex. And DCI Hunt, too. You look – worried."

Alex gulped, but the hand holding her gun remained steady. Layton continued, "You want to shoot me, Alex. I know you do. But think about it for a minute. Listen to what I've got to say."

Layton advanced closer. Gene's hand went instinctively to his holster but Alex stopped him. "No, Gene. I've got to do this myself." It went against all Gene's instincts, but he'd just seen her give a masterclass in negotiation and so he forced himself to remain still and waited for her next move.

"Listen to me, Alex," Layton announced slowly. "If you shoot me now, you will never, ever get back to 2008. I am your only door back to Molly. If you shoot me, you will never get back and Molly will never be born."

Gene looked on in confusion. What on earth was Layton talking about? But Alex was nodding, like he was making some sort of sense. Gene began to worry.

Layton's voice continued. "On the other hand, if I shoot you now, it will all end here. Your life in 1981 will be over but you'll wake up again in 2008. You'll be back with Molly. It will be like none of this ever happened. I can make it happen for you."

Alex blinked. Was this it, then? Her chance to return? She couldn't understand why Layton was offering her this and knew there was a risk that he was lying to her. But what if this really was her last opportunity to see Molly again? How would she live with herself if she made the wrong choice?

Gene's eyes narrowed in concern as he saw the indecision pictured in Alex's eyes. In his peripheral vision he saw her hand wavering as she pointed the gun at Layton. Surely she wasn't taking him seriously? But that would mean – no, it couldn't, not possibly – surely she wouldn't allow herself to be sacrificed to him? The colour drained from his face. She couldn't do it to him. She needed to fight!

Layton pressed home his advantage. "Come on, Alex," he wheedled. "What have you got to lose? There's nothing here for you."

Involuntarily, Alex sent a quick glance towards Gene. Layton noticed and understood. "Don't worry about him," he laughed easily. "He's not real. You know he's just a figment of your imagination. He'll disappear as soon as you've gone. You can't hurt him. And he'll never make you happy, not like Molly will."

Gene couldn't stand it any more. He couldn't understand the hold Layton seemed to have over her but he wouldn't allow him to talk Alex into giving in. Gene drew his own gun and pointed it at Layton.

"No!" screamed Alex. "No, Gene, you can't!" Faced with the stark choice of her make-believe world in 1981 and the possibility of seeing Molly again, Alex now knew clearly that she had to get home. The fog of confusion she'd been living with since she'd arrived in this world had lifted. Drawing reassurance from Layton's words about not hurting Gene, she found her decision had been made.

Alex thrust her hand out in front of the barrel of Gene's gun. She turned deliberately towards Layton. "Take me," she said clearly. "Please. Just shoot."

Layton extended his arm and steadied his aim. Gene watched in horror as Layton's index finger squeezed slowly on the trigger. He heard the explosion of the bullet and tracked its progress, seemingly in slow motion, as it headed towards Alex's head.

Alex was stationary, eyes closed, accepting her fate. It was too much for Gene, his heart twisting as he imagined his life without Alex. He had no choice. Unthinking, he threw himself in front of her, placing his own body in the path of the oncoming bullet.

It was over in a moment. Gene's hands flew to his chest as he felt the bullet explode within him. His eyes closed in agony; he saw a white light flash in front of his eyes. He collapsed on the floor, feeling his life draining away as his blood pooled on the concrete in front of him. He was fading, he knew, and quickly.

But Gene's noble gesture was futile. Layton's bullet was powerful and fired from close range. It travelled through Gene's body and hit Alex standing behind, lodging in her skull, above her left eyebrow. She too fell to the ground, landing close to Gene, her head coming to rest on his chest. In the brief moment before she lost consciousness she pictured Molly, and as her eyes flickered closed, a peaceful smile spread across her face.

xxxxx

**To be continued**


	6. Chapter 6

It felt like she was surfacing from deep underwater. Higher and higher she rose, until finally her head emerged into the daylight and she took a deep breath of the fresh, clean oxygen for the first time in what felt like months.

The sounds she had been hearing in her head were no longer muffled and indistinct, as if there were cotton wool stuffed in her ears. Now she could hear clearly, a succession of beeps and bings, overlaid by quiet voices discussing her progress and expressing their concerns.

She forced her eyes to open, slowly blinking against the unfamiliar bright lights. She could make out a couple of individuals in white coats examining a chart. There was a lot of machinery in her room and not much natural light. Definitely a hospital then. But why? And when?

It took an extraordinary effort, but she managed to curl the fingers of her right hand, scratching her nails against the starched sheet. She snagged the attention of the medical staff in the room and they walked over to her, smiles written across their previously stern faces.

"Back in the land of the living, then, Alex?" asked one encouragingly. "That's fantastic to see." He paused a moment, then put on his serious, give-them-the-facts expression. "You'll probably feel quite tired right now, quite weak, and that's entirely normal. You were shot, the bullet entered your temple and lodged in your brain. We were able to remove the bullet and were surprised, and pleased, by the extent to which we were able to repair the damage it caused. Of course," he smiled, "it's only now you've recovered consciousness that we can assess you fully."

The other doctor put her hand on Alex's. "Don't worry about that right now. We'll talk again later about your condition. In the meantime, get some rest, it will help your recovery. The next time you wake, you'll probably find you have a very happy visitor."

Questions crowded through Alex's mind. What had happened? What year was she in? Had she gone back to 2008 or was she still stuck in 1981? Where was Molly? Where was Gene? How long had she been in a coma? She opened her mouth, tried to ask some of her questions, but found she didn't have the strength to speak. She relaxed onto her pillows, mouth and eyes closing gently, and drifted back off to sleep.

xxxxx

The next time she awoke, she felt the reassuring pressure of a hand enclosing hers as it lay on the mattress. She smiled softly and opened her eyes. She had been right. The sight of Molly at her bedside, clutching her hand as if she'd never let go, was balm to soothe her aching heart. Molly had never looked more wonderful, more ordinary. As if sensing that her mother had woken, Molly raised her eyes to Alex's and the two shared a smile of exquisite happiness and relief.

"Mum. You're awake."

Alex swallowed and tried again to speak. "I am." Her voice was rough but Molly didn't mind.

"It's great to be able to talk to you," babbled Molly enthusiastically. "I mean, while you can hear me. I've been talking to you a lot, but you've been asleep."

Drawing on all her strength, Alex tried hard to continue the conversation. "Lovely to hear you, Molls. Missed you."

"I missed you too, mum. But Evan's been here to look after me. He says he'll be here soon to see you soon, when you and I have had a chance to catch up."

Alex smiled. "Sorry I missed your birthday."

"Oh, don't worry mum. I saved you some cake. The doctors said I can bring it in tomorrow although you can't have too much to eat just yet."

A frown worked its way between Alex's eyebrows. Cake? Wouldn't the cake be stale by now? Mouldy, even? Alex knew she must be back in 2008, otherwise she wouldn't have Molly, but just how long had she been in her coma? She'd lived for months in 1981 – hadn't it been the same in the real world?

"Molly?"

"Yes, mum?"

"How long have I been here? How long was I asleep?"

"Three days. The doctors were worried when you didn't wake up straight after your operation, but they say now that three days is okay and that you should still be able to make a full recovery."

Alex gave a slight nod and closed her eyes. She was still very sleepy, needed to rest. Needed to process this information. Three days. Her months in 1981 had all been condensed into a three-day coma. She had been able to create her whole 1981 world, all the people, the incidents, in moments. Nothing about 1981 had been real.

Naturally, she was thrilled to be reunited with her daughter, pleased to be back in her real life, with her job, her family, her home. But she couldn't help but feel a pang of regret about leaving behind the world of 1981, even if it had turned out to be illusory. She would miss the colour and the sounds of 1981 London. And she would miss Gene. She felt her breath catch as she realised she'd only see him again in her imagination and memory. It didn't seem like much consolation to realise that he'd only ever existed there anyway.

Her hand in Molly's relaxed as sleep claimed Alex once again. Molly sat for a moment watching over her mother, then scrambled away to find Evan and update him.

xxxxx

Three weeks later, Alex was relieved to finally be discharged from hospital. The doctors and nurses had been great and were encouraging about her prospects of making a full recovery, although she wouldn't be allowed back to work for some months yet. And she'd had plenty of visits from Molly and Evan to keep her occupied, as well as several visits from colleagues and friends who had been concerned about her injury and keen to help her recover. She felt secure, happy to be wanted by her family and friends and keen to be back in her own home. But still there was a cloud on her horizon as she continued to miss the world of 1981. One element in particular of her coma-induced fantasy clung to her and resisted all her efforts at brushing away; she still thought frequently of Gene and how wonderful she'd felt with him. She missed him terribly, almost the same as she'd felt about Molly when she'd thought she'd been in 1981.

She hadn't told anyone about her imaginary 1981 world, for fear of being laughed at or worse, being thought somehow unhinged. She'd only just persuaded people that she was ready to go home; she didn't need to give anyone any excuses to keep her in hospital. Nevertheless, she couldn't stop giving Gene an unhealthy amount of space in her head and remained surprised by how real the memories of him felt.

She relaxed on her sofa, a cup of tea near her hand, and enjoyed the simple pleasure of being alone in her own home. Molly had reluctantly gone back to school and Evan would be round later to make sure she was OK. For the next few hours, though, her time was her own.

Alex closed her eyes and tried, unsuccessfully, to stop thinking about Gene. Conceding defeat, she abandoned herself to the memories of him and of them together. If she concentrated, she could still smell his scent, still hear his deep growl, feel the sensation of his lips on her skin, his hands in her hair, their bodies pressed together. She sighed. It did seem unfair that the most successful relationship she'd had in her life, the most successful one she'd probably have ever, had turned out to be fictional. It still felt so crisp, so tangible, she sometimes had trouble persuading herself that it hadn't been real.

Bits and pieces of the events leading up to her shooting had been coming back to her. At first she'd been unable to remember anything, either about the real shooting in 2008 or the imaginary one in 1981. Her colleagues had filled her in on how Arthur Layton had shot her on the barge in the real world. After that, her memory had begun to recover fragments of the incident with Gene. She remembered deciding to sacrifice herself in the hope of returning home to Molly. She remembered Gene's anguished cry as the bullet began flying towards her. And she remembered Gene throwing himself in front of her, in a desperate attempt to prevent her from being harmed. He'd developed a habit of rescuing her; she'd never really appreciated it at the time.

Alex swallowed. It still felt so real. The memories weren't receding, as she had expected them to; instead they became sharper and clearer by the day. Try as she might, she couldn't rid herself of the nagging doubt that something was wrong. She should be happy and contented – she was back at home, surrounded by people she loved and who loved her in return – so why was she feeling so unsettled?

Slowly, a plan began to formulate in her mind. It was crazy, but so what? Everything about her injury and her sojourn in 1981 was crazy. She finished off her tea, picked up the phone and called a taxi.

xxxxx

Standing on the front steps of the hospital, Alex reflected that she hadn't expected to be returning to this particular venue quite so quickly. But it was the only way she could think of to stop the ceaseless questioning in her mind. She would find out, now, one way or another. Setting her shoulders back, she straightened her spine and walked determinedly towards the central information desk.

"Can I help you?" asked the information assistant.

"Yes. Please. I hope so." Alex swallowed. This was it. "I was wondering whether you could tell me whether you have admitted a particular patient."

"Name?"

"Hunt. Gene Hunt."

"Hold on, please." The assistant tapped long fingernails across a keyboard. Alex couldn't see the screen. The wait seemed interminable.

The assistant looked up. "Room G14, Nightingale ward."

Alex's knees felt weak beneath her. "Pardon?"

"He's in room G14, on Nightingale ward. Turn left, take the lift to the third floor, then go right. It'll be straight ahead of you."

"Right." Alex turned in the direction the assistant had indicated and walked slowly towards the lift. Surely not. This couldn't be happening. Perhaps there was a mistake. Probably there was another Gene Hunt. Yes, that would be it. But it was best to be sure. She reached the lift and pressed the call button, her hand reaching up to her forehead as she tried to rub away the confusion that was surrounding her.

The lift arrived and she entered, pressing the button for the third floor. Still in a daze, she watched the buttons illuminate one by one, until the doors for the third floor opened. Stepping out into the lobby, she turned right, walked through the double doors and saw the nurses' station for Nightingale ward in front of her.

She took a deep breath and walked up to the desk. She took out her warrant card, feeling only slightly guilty about this misuse of her authority. "I'm DI Alex Drake and I'm looking for a patient of yours. A Gene Hunt. I was told he was here."

The nurse looked up at her. "Yes, he's here," she said. ""We haven't had any of your colleagues here for a while, though."

Alex nodded. Presumably if Gene had been admitted with a gunshot wound, someone from the police force would have come to investigate. "Can I see him?"

"Of course. But – has anyone told you about his condition?"

Alex shook her head.

"His wound caused critical injury and he has been unconscious since his admission. The consultants managed a successful removal of the bullet and expected that Mr Hunt would make a good recovery. But he hasn't regained consciousness since the operation. It's as though he doesn't want to come round. There's something holding him back."

Alex gripped the edge of the nurses' station. "Where is his room?"

The nurse pointed down the corridor and said, "Head left then he's in room G14, the room at the end."

Alex walked in the direction indicated and reached the door of the room marked G14. The blinds across the window were drawn and she couldn't see inside. She knocked the door and, receiving no reply, reached for the handle. Pausing, steadying her breath, squaring her shoulders, she turned the handle and entered.

xxxxx

_He felt soft, cool fingers entwined with his own. It was as if he'd never been touched before. He knew he was looking for something but he didn't know what. Keep looking. Must keep looking._

_Could he make out a voice? A woman's voice? Perhaps she could help him find what he was looking for. What was she saying? Sounded important. Life-changing._

"_Can't believe you're here… Missed you so much… Don't understand what happened…"_

_Was that crying? Why was she crying? He felt a warm weight settle gently across his chest, could smell a familiar, flowery scent. What was that smell? It was beautiful._

"_And look at you here... You've got tubes coming from places you probably don't even know you've got… Wake up, Gene… Please wake up…"_

_He felt relaxed, happy even, for the first time he could remember. He hoped she'd still be there when he woke. He felt himself drifting away again._

xxxxx

The nurse found Alex some time later, sitting next to Gene, her head pressed against his heart, her hand wrapped around his. Her eyes were red rimmed and expressionless. The nurse smiled at her and Alex jerked upright, keen to understand more about Gene's condition.

"How long will he be like this?"

The nurse smiled gently. "It's hard to tell. There don't seem to be any physiological reasons for Mr Hunt's coma. He could come round at any time. On the other hand… Well, some patients have remained in this state for months, years even. It hasn't helped that he's had so few visitors. We usually encourage relatives of coma patients to speak to them as much as possible – it seems to help reconnect them with the outside world. You should keep talking to him. You never know, it may be enough to wake him up."

The nurse checked Gene's monitors, adjusted his drip, scribbled something on his chart and then quietly left. Alex lowered herself back down so she was again resting on Gene's chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his breath ruffling the top of her head.

Alex let out a gentle sigh. If anyone knew the importance of talking to coma patients, it was her. After all, if she hadn't had Molly talking to her during her coma, she might never have come round. And she was only under for three days – Gene had been unconscious for a month.

She checked her watch. She had another couple of hours before Evan would be coming to find her at home. She decided to do the only thing she could think of to try to reach him. She started talking.

It was difficult at first, unnatural, but she persevered, chatting away about life in 2008, what he would find changed when he woke, what he would find the same. After a while, she found her voice trailing off. She lifted her head and took a long, close look at Gene's face. He looked intensely familiar, as if he was simply asleep in the bed they had shared in the flat above Luigi's. She traced her fingers along the line of his jaw, then ran her thumb along the bow of his bottom lip.

Alex thought back to their final night together, before the shooting. She'd had another stupid nightmare about the Clown and Gene had asked her live with him. She had hesitated at the time – been unsure because of Molly – and she'd put off talking about it, never told him that she'd love to get a place with him, to know that he'd always be there when she woke. Oh well, Alex sighed to herself. No time like the present.

xxxxx

_She was still here. He could feel her warmth and the softness of her touch. And could hear her voice, clearly this time, telling him things he sensed he'd longed to hear._

"_So sorry… should have told you at the time… how much I loved you… still love you…"_

_He could feel a soft hand tracing a pattern on his palm. Wanted to respond. Couldn't._

"_Made the right choice – couldn't leave Molly – but hated leaving you... Think about you every day… all the time… never felt like this before…"_

_His hand was being turned over and warm lips pressed against his palm. Kisses being pressed against his fingertips. His head felt clearer._

"_Want you to come back to me, Gene… to us… Molly would love you, too…"_

_Silence. Was she crying again? Please don't go. Talk some more. I feel close. Think I've found what I'm looking for._

_Her hand held his again. Better._

"_Don't want to have to live without you… want to be with you always… know you feel the same…"_

_That's it. Feel the same. Always felt the same. Concentrate. Show her. _

xxxxx

Alex felt drained. All she'd wanted since waking up in her hospital bed was to see Gene again. And here he was. But it was all wrong, he was unconscious and no one could reassure her that he'd ever come back. It was unbearable.

Biting back a sob, Alex lifted Gene's hand to her face and nuzzled it against her cheek. "Please come back to us, Gene. I'll wait. However long it takes. But please come. Soon as you can."

She lowered his hand back to the mattress and was about to let go when she thought she felt it move against hers. She froze. Her heart juddered to a stop, then began to race in her chest. Calm down, Alex. It was probably nothing. You're just imagining it. But just in case…

"Gene," she whispered. She lowered her head so her lips were close to his ears. "Gene. Do that again, Gene. Please. Show me."

She waited, her hand gently wrapped around his, desperate to feel it move. "Please, Gene," she almost cried. Seconds stretched into minutes and she remained still, pleading under her breath for Gene to respond. Eventually, she felt it again. The slightest tightening of his hand within hers. And again. Her body sagged with relief. She lowered herself carefully against him.

"That's wonderful, Gene," she said softly, her free hand tracing patterns through his hair. Her eyes shone. "You're on your way. I'm going to go a fetch a nurse, now. Don't go anywhere. I'll be back in a minute."

Alex eased herself off the edge of the bed and turned to give Gene a gentle kiss goodbye. She brushed her lips softly against his, sighing at the familiar sensation. It wasn't enough – not nearly – but it would have to do for now. She closed her eyes, wanting the moment to last as long as possible. She didn't see Gene's own eyes flickering open to look at her.

"Don't go."

His voice was broken, even deeper than his usual growl. Alex's eyes flew to his. She fell to her knees beside his bed, her eyes bright and a dazed smile growing across her face.

"Gene! Oh, Gene, you're here! I'm so pleased to see you!" It was difficult to keep the tears away but she smiled through them.

"Don't leave," he repeated.

"No," she breathed. "Not leaving. Never leaving again."

Gene managed a smile. "Good."

"You had me worried, you know," Alex told him shakily. "For a while, I wasn't sure I'd see you again. I thought you'd disappeared."

"And leave you?" Speaking was an effort, but he had to tell her. "Never." But for now, this would have to be enough. He was out of energy and needed to sleep.

Alex watched over him as his eyes slowly closed and his breathing returned to the deep, even rumble she knew so well.

xxxxx

When Gene next awoke, Alex was sitting in the chair by his bedside, holding his hand, eyes closed and dozing quietly. He struggled to remember. He'd been shot. He'd been trying to save her. Seemed he'd succeeded, again.

And yet, in the end, she'd saved him. She'd somehow rescued him from the depths of sleep. Until he'd heard her voice, he hadn't been able to find a route through the fog. He'd struggled to find a way out of the clouds in his mind; her voice calling his name had been his guide. And she was still here, still holding him. It was his second chance. He didn't deserve it but he wasn't going to let it go. She needed him, he knew that now. And he would follow her anywhere.

"Bolly," he growled. He squeezed her fingers, keen to wake her. He wanted to begin their new life together right now. She opened her eyes and threw him a dazzling smile.

"I'm here, Gene," she replied softly. "Always here."

xxxxx

**The end **

**xxxxx**

**Thank you so much for reading and for all the encouraging reviews. I hope you enjoyed this last chapter.**

**I'm not sure when I'll be able to write more as I'm expecting my second baby one week today and need to do loads of stuff in preparation. I'll keep checking on my favourite stories, though, as they'll keep me sane during the craziness of the newborn period.**

**All the best**

**Lou**


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